


Communication is Key

by freelancestargazing



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24855373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freelancestargazing/pseuds/freelancestargazing
Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you.” Arthur knew he sounded like a child, and was probably pouting like one too, but he didn’t care. He was tired, and annoyed, and wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend, except it was his boyfriend’s fault that he was annoyed.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 250





	Communication is Key

He’d only just left the shower when he heard a sharp knock at the front door to his apartment. Arthur stared at it balefully, wondering if the knocker would just leave. But they knocked a second time, and Arthur realised who it was. He sighed, tugging at his damp hair, and debated just ignoring the door anyway, when there was a third knock, followed by a shout of “Come on, you prat, I know you’re in there!” 

Arthur scowled, stomping loudly on his way down the hall. He opened the door to see Merlin, hand raised to knock a fourth time, somehow looking more haphazard than usual. His dark hair, messy even on a good day, had that I-just-slept-in-a-bush look, fittingly accentuated by the lavender circles beneath his eyes and the ragged jeans he only ever wore when nothing else in his wardrobe was clean. If he wasn’t still mad at his boyfriend, Arthur might feel a bit guilty about it. 

“What do you want, Merlin?” Arthur asked tiredly, his abrupt rage fizzling out. He’d thought he might feel some sort of vindication if he discovered Merlin upset at Arthur’s blatant avoidance of him, but he really didn’t. He also didn’t want to deal with this right now—he got snappy when he was tired, often said things he regretted later, and as much as he didn’t want to break up with Merlin, he was also very annoyed with him, which meant his snappy words would be more truthful than ever. 

“I want to talk to you,” Merlin said, raising his chin stubbornly, looking like he knew that Arthur wanted to tell him to fuck off and not planning to go anywhere. 

“Not now, Merlin.” Not quite _fuck off_ , but it was audible in his tone. 

“Yes now, because if I leave, you’ll just keep avoiding me, and we’ll never get to talk like actual fucking adults.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Arthur knew he sounded like a child, and was probably pouting like one too, but he didn’t care. He was tired, and annoyed, and wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend, except it was his boyfriend’s fault that he was annoyed. 

“Why not?” Merlin asked, dropping his stubborn stance and looking suddenly desperate. “What did I do to make you so upset with me that you would _miss your train_ just to avoid me?” 

Arthur frowned. “How did you hear about that?” 

“Morgana.” 

Of course it was her, the bloody witch. “Well, if you can’t figure it out for yourself, then I’m certainly not going to tell you.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes, going so far as to roll his head too, and Arthur felt himself bristle at the implication of his _overdramatic attitude_. As if he didn’t get that enough from his father. “Fucking hell, Arthur, can’t you cut me some slack? You know I’ve been busy lately with uni and shit, and you’re always telling me how scatterbrained I can be, so if I’ve forgotten something, or missed a call or something—”

“Missed a call?” Arthur hissed. Merlin’s eyes widened, as if realising he had crossed a line. “You think I’d be this bloody pissed if you’d just missed a fucking call? No, you twat, I’m pissed because I had my grand fucking final last weekend and you couldn’t be bothered to pay attention!” 

“What are you talking about? I was there, in the stands, with Gwen and Morgana, watching you and the other Knights and screaming myself hoarse.” Merlin looked genuinely confused, and Arthur wondered, not for the first time, if Merlin had hurt himself bad enough to induce infrequent amnesia. 

“No, you were in the stands on your phone the entire bloody time, too busy texting or reading or whatever is was you were doing to watch your boyfriend win the season he’d been working towards all year.” 

When Arthur had first run onto the field, he’d immediately looked for Merlin, seen Gwen and Morgana waving at him and Merlin fiddling with his phone. Gwen had nudged him, he’d looked over the phone — not put it down or anything, just lowered it slightly so Arthur could see his face — and grinned cheerfully. Arthur had let it go that first time, because he knew Merlin had blown off his usual study group to watch Arthur play, and considering it was getting close to exam times he thought it meant Merlin cared. 

Except every time after that, when he looked back over during breaks, Merlin was back on his phone, holding it up and chatting to someone, or hunched over looking at something, and Arthur had felt anger simmering hot in his gut. And, okay, maybe he was hurt too, because Merlin was at university, doing computer science and game design, always studying maths and code and whatever other nerdy-genius-shit he did, and Arthur was just his dumb football boyfriend who’d chosen to do sport so he could avoid taking over his father’s business. Merlin had always made it clear that he didn’t care that Arthur wasn’t interested in uni, _you chose to do what you love rather than just listening to your father, and he’s fucking terrifying, you’re braver than I’ve ever been, Arthur_ , but that didn’t stop Arthur’s feelings of inadequacy. 

He’d just wanted the chance to show off a little, prove to both Merlin and himself that he was good at what he did and it didn’t matter that it wasn’t highly intellectual. But then Merlin had spent the whole time on his phone, and despite the fact that his team won, Arthur’s victory had felt a bit hollow knowing his boyfriend didn’t actually care. 

Merlin’s frown deepened, before being replaced with a sheepish grin. He laughed quietly, and Arthur wanted to punch him. “Right, I can explain that, Arthur, I promise.” 

“For the sake of your nose, I hope so.” 

This time Merlin pouted. “It would be easier inside,” he said, waving his hand over Arthur’s shoulder. 

Arthur crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, stretching his leg out so his foot was propped on the other side and completely blocked Merlin’s way. Merlin just rolled his eyes again, swinging his bag from his back and into his arms, unzipping it and pulling out his laptop. He dropped the bag carelessly at his feet, opening the laptop, gnawing at his lower lip while his fingers danced over the keys and mouse pad. Arthur watched this impatiently, keeping his gaze trained on Merlin’s furrowed brow rather than his lips, stubbornly not wondering what exactly Merlin was looking for. 

A moment later Merlin cheered triumphantly, spinning the laptop around and presenting it to Arthur. He pushed the spacebar, and the dark screen faded into a very familiar football pitch, where Arthur could see his team running out to the cheers of the crowd. “And here they come, the best team this side of the sun, the Camelot Knights! Led by Arthur Pendragon, famous for his incredible leadership, brilliant tactics, and gorgeous arse, to which none can compare!” 

It was Merlin’s voice narrating, and occasionally the camera would pan to Gwen and Morgana, who were chatting and cheering and teasing, saying _this is such a cheesy idea, Merlin, who knew you and Arthur were such saps?_ And Merlin’s cheerful voice replied, _it’s a closely guarded secret, so don’t tell him I told you_ , and both the girls laughed. The camera turned back to the game, and Merlin kept narrating, describing plays in such a way that made it obvious he had no idea what he was talking about. But occasionally he made a comment followed by _and I know that’s correct because Arthur taught me himself_ , and Arthur realised he’d made a terrible mistake. 

He looked back at Merlin, who was still smiling, but much softer, fond and just a little sad, and Arthur felt his earlier guilt return tenfold. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I wasn’t paying attention to you,” Merlin said, “I just wanted to surprise you with this. It was supposed to be a birthday present, but oh well.” 

Of course Merlin managed to apologise first when it was Arthur who fucked up. “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you,” he said, straightening from his defensive stance and reaching out to Merlin. 

Merlin grinned again, closing the laptop and dropping it on top of his bag before moving into Arthur’s arms. “How about we just agree that we’re both idiots who need to work on their communication?” He asked, lips hovering over Arthur’s. 

“Agreed,” Arthur nodded, closing the gap and kissing his boyfriend to within an inch of his life. 

**Author's Note:**

> a) I don't actually think of Arthur as a 'dumb football player', nor do I think there is anything wrong with being one, it's simply personal insecurities for the sake of plot  
> b) I know nothing about computer science, but it's okay because I didn't have to talk about it as much as I originally thought I would
> 
> Hi! Thanks for reading my first ever (published) fanfiction! This has been sitting in my Google Docs for bloody ages and driving me mad, but it's out in the world now (what a terrifying thought).
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think? (Or don't, no pressure or anything.)


End file.
